Reel Life by Request
by SpecialK199
Summary: Prompts from readers based on my story Reel Life, just to see what else we can find to explore with these guys.
1. Third time's the charm TrinityLJ

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**A/N: So, yeah. Reel Life seems to be acquiring a new readership lately which is lovely to see. I've also had a couple of messages from TrinityLJ asking if there was any more life in the RL universe. I didn't have any ideas, so told her if she made some suggestions I'd see what I could do. Gorgeous gal that she is, Trinity sent me some prompts that acted a trigger for this piece. Hope you like it bb!**

"You don't sound pleased."

"What? No of course I am. It's always great to be nominated and …," Edward's voice trailed off as he stopped and tried to find the right words to placate his agent before giving up.

"And?"

"And _blah blah blah_," Edward finished.

"Well just try and lift the attitude before the event. It's in six weeks and before you can ask, I've already checked your schedule and you're available."

"Did you check with -," Edward began.

"Yes Bella knows all about it too."

"You're good."

"It's what you pay me for," Eric returned in a tone that only just stopped short of sounding smug. "We'll catch up soon to go over those scripts you liked."

"Sure thing."

"In the meantime, you'd better hurry. You're meant to be meeting Bella in ten minutes."

"How the hell did you know that?" Edward stopped in the act of unlocking his car.

"Called her first," Eric replied. "Now get."

"Fine," Edward mumbled. "See you soon." He opened the car door and flipped his iPhone onto the passenger seat before climbing in. As he started the car he squinted ahead and sighed under his breath as he saw several figures peeling away to parked vehicles. Paparazzi; they were like goddamn rats with cameras. Pushing his sunglasses up his nose, he flicked down the sun visor and blinked at the polaroid photo that he hadn't seen before. It was a picture of Bella, pulling a face and holding a piece of paper that bore the slogan _Don't Drive Angry!_ He grinned and tapped the photo with a forefinger before turning his attention back to the traffic. After two years his wife still got a kick out of leaving little surprises for him, seemingly designed to lift his mood when he needed it most.

o * o * o * o

"Hey," Bella looked up with a smile as Edward wound his way through the store to where she said she'd be. "Has Eric called you?"

"Uh-huh," Edward replied, giving her a quick kiss before glancing over her shoulder at the other customers. Even for a celebrity-saturated town like Hollywood people still did double takes when they realised they were sharing proximity with Edward Cullen.

"You don't sound happy about it," Bella observed as she hitched her purse strap into a comfortable position on her shoulder and then reached out to take his hand.

"You sound like Eric," Edward replied, his thumb rubbing her hand as they began strolling.

"I would have thought you'd at least be flattered about being nominated for an Emmy," Bella teased.

"I don't know," shrugging, Edward stopped and considered an enormous lamp designed to look like an old-school Hollywood spotlight. It was also chrome. It was so gaudy, so tacky that he couldn't help but gape in wonder at the sheer horror. Bella had kept walking and so was tugged to a stop when he didn't move to follow. Turning she followed his awestruck gaze and blanched.

"Honey," she murmured as she leaned against him, "If you want to call it quits, just tell me and I'll start packing."

"What?" That had him blinking and looking away from the over polished monstrosity.

"You can have me, or the lamp, but not both," she informed him with a solemn nod.

That was the second time that day Edward Cullen's wife had saved his mood before it could tip over into full-blown cynicism.

o * o * o * o

Browsing and turned into a late lunch, followed by some good natured bickering in a local gallery before they had both made their way home. As he pulled up at an intersection Edward had signed and cupped his hand over his nose and mouth as if deep in thought, making the photographer on the motorbike in front of him huff in annoyance. The lights changed and the traffic moved on. When he abruptly turned at the next intersection without any signals he offered private thanks that Bella wasn't in the car with him. As far as the paparazzi were concerned he liked to think of it as evasive driving. Bella called it 'driving like an idiot', but there was bound to be some middle room in the argument; he just hadn't found it yet.

By the time he let himself into the house he'd calmed down somewhat, flicking his keys and sunglasses into the bowl on the table by the door with a sense of relief. Home. He was home now, and everyone else and their expectations were outside. Catching movement in his peripheral vision he looked up to see Bella standing at the end of the hallway holding up an empty cup in silent query. He nodded. They'd intended on having a coffee after lunch but a few people had started to gather outside the restaurant once word had gotten out he was there, and so they'd elected to go.

When he reached the kitchen Bella had started the coffee machine. Beans were grinding, and after a few clunks and clicks a stream of espresso began to pour into the waiting cups. His brother Emmett had given him shit for days over buying the extravagant machine, but a taste of the coffee had silenced him on the matter. It wasn't uncommon to see the big man striding across the backyard from the adjoining gate in the back fence with an empty cup and a hopeful expression. Milk was frothed, sugar was added and then the two of them were sitting at the table with their cups.

"So, wanna tell me what the problem is?"

"Mmmph," Edward grunted around his sip of coffee.

"Quoth the actor," Bella drawled. "C'mon. The call from Eric seems to have put you into a funk." She reached out and rubbed his arm.

"It's just-," Edward began and stopped. He was going to sound like an ungrateful bastard, and Bella had been having a good day. She didn't need his pouting when he knew how busy she was on script revisions.

"Out with it," Bella encouraged.

"I feel like a fraud," Edward said at last.

"The people that nominated you don't think so," Bella said. This was a conversation that they'd had before.

"I just don't get what the fuss is about," Edward put down his cup and scrubbed at his face with his hands before looking at his wife who was watching him with a sympathetic expression. "I get told to _put this coat on, stand over there and say this_, and then when I do it they all want to applaud and give me a trophy? It's bullshit."

Bella's lips pursed with suppressed amusement at his simplistic description of the movie industry, but to her credit she didn't laugh.

"Oh honey, you've gone too far outside yourself," she said. "Think about the bigger picture."

"Which is?" Edward raised an eyebrow at her, too mired in self-pity to be rational for the moment.

"You're very good at what you do, but this isn't all about you," Bella shifted her seat closer and reached up to comb her fingers through his hair. "Sure you're the performing seal if that's how you want to think about it, but there's a lot more to it. There were a lot of people on that shoot that took pride in their work, not to mention the writers that get to see their work, their _words_ reach a whole new audience. The author himself approved the casting, and now he gets to see the characters in his head come to life."

"Huh," Edward nodded.

"Think of it as a team effort if that makes you feel any better."

"And if I don't?"

Bella shrugged.

"Then suck it up and deal. You've got a good career, so stop feeling so guilty about it."

Edward stilled at her words and then gave a rueful laugh.

"Damn, I think you've just nailed it," Edward straightened in his seat and gave his wife a tired smile. "C'mere."

Pushing his chair out, he opened his arms and Bella took up the invitation. Curling into his lap she pressed a warm open-mouthed kiss against his neck. Dipping his head, Edward nuzzled her cheek briefly before they began a silent but entirely familiar conversation with their bodies. The awards could wait. He had the prize he really wanted right here.

**Yep, RL rides again. Writing for prompts helps me flex my fic muscles, folks. If you have any particular scenes you'd like to see, drop me a line and I'll see what I can do.**


	2. Obedience and Cupcakes  TrinityLJ

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight.**

_**Okay peeps, so this is the prompt from Trinity that I set out the write last time before the other one-shot took over. Another drabble, hope you like. S x**_

He felt exhausted and had to resist the urge to scrub at his eyes as the words swam in front of him.

"Mr Cullen?"

Edward looked from his Kindle to see one of the Production Assistants offering him a nervous smile. Whilst he'd been allocated a gulfstream trailer that offered all the mod cons, there was no substitute for fresh air and sunshine. He also couldn't run the risk of collapsing into the trailer's bed, knowing that if he fell asleep he'd be sluggish for the afternoon. Instead, he'd found himself a spot at one of the tables in the catering area that ensured him a steady supply of coffee and the opportunity to catch up on some light reading. Production had only been going for a few days so people that hadn't worked with him before hadn't quite mustered up the courage to say much beyond a few nods and smiles.

"Aro said to let you know the lighting should be set in another hour."

"Thanks," he replied, "I'll come over."

"Oh you don't have to …," the Assistant hesitated, watching Edward unfold himself from his seat and switch off the Kindle before stashing it in his bag.

"S'alright, I can't just sit around all day," Edward said as he grabbed the bag strap turned to head over to where the main production team would be working. He looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Coming?"

Settling the strap of his satchel into a comfortable position on his shoulder, Edward stuffed his hands into his pockets and strolled around. They had managed to film one scene that morning, but after a break for lunch there were the inevitable delays as the lighting and cameras were set for the next shoot. His last two projects had been indie productions, something he was embracing more and more at Bella's encouragement. Larger productions were enjoyable in their own way, but he found himself missing the camaraderie that the smaller sets had to offer, not to mention the tighter schedules. Filming on a shoestring meant that every minute was primed for maximum efficiency, as opposed to this Hollywood leviathan.

Parting ways with the Assistant who had remained silent for the brief walk, he made his way towards the largest concentration of people. Tanya, his Personal Assistant appeared with a smile and relieved him of his satchel. This left him to exchange a few mild pleasantries with people and again wander around in a bid to find something to do that wouldn't generate any waspishness from hair and makeup.

"Tanya, I'm just going for a walk around so if you need me for anything-," he held up his iPhone.

Tanya nodded, and went back to her checklist and mobile phone. Having an Assistant made life a little easier sometimes, but even after all these years Edward found it a little disconcerting at times to have someone at his beck and call. He liked to think of himself as low maintenance and so employed Tanya on a share basis with two of his co-stars. Strolling across the set Edward made his way beyond the fake walls and lighting and kept walking. The studio was massive, a city in miniature with dozens of people scurrying back and forth on various tasks.

The first time Edward saw someone with a cupcake it was little more than something that caught his eye. The catering on set was good, but he hadn't thought they extended themselves beyond breakfast muffins. A few minutes later he saw two burly electricians taking a quick break in between tasks. Edward had grinned at the incongruous sight of the two heavily tattooed men eating heavily frosted cupcakes with obvious relish. They had looked up and given him friendly nods that Edward had returned.

The deeper Edward walked through the set encountering more workers, the more he began to realise there was a pattern. He got recognised, given they were on the set of his latest film that was to be expected, but this was something different. It was the openly friendly smiles people were giving him. It wasn't a matter of social recognition; even the carpenters were nodding and calling out greetings as if he had suddenly passed some invisible friendship test, and there seemed to be cupcakes everywhere.

Cupcakes.

Edward paused, thinking it over. He'd been due in hair and makeup at 4am and Bella had been sound asleep when he left. It was early afternoon now but surely she couldn't have …

He stopped and shook his head at that. There were times when idle speculation about what his wife could and couldn't do was a waste of time. Bella had been a curious mix of shyness and sass when they had started dating, and yet somehow along the way she had grown into herself. Of course, it went without saying that prolonged exposure to Rosalie and Alice had turned her into a 'Challenge Accepted' kind of woman. The only exception to that had been when she had refused Emmett's double-dare to goose Clint Eastwood at an award ceremony after party.

His phone began to ring, and he fished it out of his pocket as he turned and began the walk back. He crossed paths with a gofer who was halfway through a cupcake, and hid a quiet sigh.

"Any of those left?" He asked, gesturing towards the cupcake.

"A couple," the young man replied, "but you'd better be quick."

"Can't," Edward shook his head, "but I guess I'll be able to get one another time."

A quick glance at his phone told him that he had time, and so he took a quick detour past catering. The workers were all smiles and polite confusion.

"Sorry Mr Cullen, we got muffins but no cupcakes. If you like we can-," the Manager was explaining when Edward waved him off with an easy grin.

"No problem. You guys are doing great, I was just wondering."

"We can have some tomorrow …"

"Nah," Edward shook his head. "It was just a whim, don't go to any effort on my account." Now Edward was downplaying the conversation for all it was worth. No-ones cakes tasted as good as Bella's, and he didn't want to be accused of cheating on her with second-rate baked goods. His suspicions were being confirmed though.

Returning to the main set Edward peered through the crowd and saw his name-stenciled chair sitting to the rear of the cameras. His script was on the seat, and neatly placed on top of it was a small, plastic container. His face split into a wide grin, causing a few women (and men) to wish it was directed at them.

Not wanting to walk through the shot that had nearly finished being blocked, he skirted the edge of the crowd. Technicians were walking and talking back and forth as they finalized the setup, but some of them gave Edward a broad grin or a happy nod. The mood on set had been convivial enough that morning, but now it seemed outright friendly.

"Hey, Cullen," a voice called out as he passed, making Edward pause and turn back with an enquiring eyebrow.

It was Simon, a British cameraman who had been a man of few words earlier in the day, even with the copious amounts of coffee that was freely available.

"Yeah?"

"That missus of yours," Simon went on, his London accent cutting through the American and Australian twangs and drawls around them, "she's alright."

"Uh, thanks?" Edward offered, noting with bemusement that a few people were regarding him with acceptance as he nodded and kept walking towards his chair.

Edward had always made it a point of showing his appreciation to everyone he worked with, but this was a process that generally took a while to get going. With any new production there was always the invisible social line between "the stars" and "the help". After only a few days of shooting however, the line seemed to have been comprehensively blurred.

Reaching his chair, Edward picked up the container and unscrewed the clear Perspex lid. The smell of vanilla and sugar wafted up to greet him and he swallowed hard before putting the lid back on. He'd have to save it until later, dammit.

"There you are, did you find Bella?" Tanya had reappeared by his side.

"No, is she still here?"

"Probably," Tanya shrugged. "Want me to find out? Uh-uh-," she stopped Edward who had gotten out his phone again. "Hand it over. They're going to start the scene again soon."

"Right." Abashed, Edward handed her the phone. The Director had instigated a very healthy fine system for anyone who got busted by a ringing phone in the middle of a take. He followed Tanya's gaze to the cupcake sitting on his seat. "Did you get one?"

"Sure did," Tanya replied with a prompt nod. "They're _amazing_. You should see how many she came here with. She had to get one of the guys at the gate to find her a trolley."

Edward snorted in surprise at this; she must have been baking on the sly for days and hadn't let slip with a single clue. He made a mental note never to play poker with her.

"Did everyone get one?" Edward was running some rough calculations in his head, trying to work out how many people she might have catered for.

"I don't know," Tanya stepping aside as a makeup woman appeared to usher Edward into his seat so that she could quickly blot his forehead and check his makeup. "She started with all the techs and mechs first, and came here last."

Edward grinned. He should have figured Bella would look after the real worker first before moving her way up to the cream of the crop. That demonstrated her entire behaviour towards the industry: always look after the little guy, because when all the shouting's over they're the ones that you really need.

"Five minutes," came a call from across the set. Tanya nodded and handed Edward a bottle of water. A Production Assistant appeared with a walkie-talkie, ready to escort him to his mark on the set when required.

Tucking his water bottle against his side he reached for the day's script again, flicking through the pages and reacquainting himself with his notes. He did exhaustive prep work but always felt a rush of nerves in the moments before he stepped in front of the camera. He looked at the cupcake container again and hesitated.

"You've got time," Tanya assured him.

That was all the validation he needed. He picked up the cupcake, pausing when he saw a folded scrap of paper in the bottom. Setting it aside he stripping off the cupcake's waxed paper base and took a bite and licked some frosting off his fingers. Heaven. It was Bella's classic vanilla cupcake with buttercream frosting. He ate it in short order, licking his lips and checking his shirtfront for crumbs, humming under his breath with satisfaction. Now he turned his attention back to the note, which he carefully unfolded.

_Thought everyone would like a sugar rush for the afternoon. Emmett didn't get any. He's going to pout for DAYS. B x_

Edward smiled at this as he felt a rush of affection for his wife. Impressive enough that she'd kept the promise of bulk cupcakes a secret at home, let alone his brother not finding out in advance. He was definitely never going to play poker with her.

"My girl's here," Edward looked at Tanya and smiled as he tucked the note away for safekeeping.

Tanya watched him fold up the note and stow it carefully back in the container. She liked working for Edward. The guy was Hollywood A-list and yet seemed so _normal_. When word had gotten out that he was married she and her girlfriends had sighed, disappointed that he had somehow never noticed them (because it could happen, right?). Curiosity had been rife in the industry, wondering what actress/model he had hooked up with on the sly.

Much to everyone's surprise he'd married a _journalist_ of all things. No, wait. That wasn't right. He'd married a _writer_, and she had become known as a script doctor of late. She'd written an indie film that had been picked up, and rumours were that another one of hers was about to be given the green light by a larger studio. Plenty of cynics had suggested that her access-Hollywood card was firmly attached to Edward, but the quality of her writing was beginning to speak for itself.

Tanya had been willing to withhold judgement, but any reserve had fallen to ashes when Bella had appeared on set with a carload of cake boxes and a conspiratorial grin. Anyone that actually ate dessert in this town was okay by her. She had watched as Bella had taken the trolley and made her way around the set, distributing cupcakes. She hadn't asked people to help, hadn't been followed by a camera crew (and that was another wonder … practically everyone had a reality show deal these days), and hadn't told anyone who she was.

The walkie-talkie squawked and there was a brief but garbled conversation before the Production Assistant looked at Edward and nodded.

"They're ready," she confirmed.

"Let's do it," Edward nodded.

"You don't want to wait for Bella?" Tanya asked, surprised.

"She might have other stuff to do, but she'd never forgive me if I held people up waiting for her," Edward explained. "My time is no more important than anyone else here."

Used to herding and cajoling people all day, both Tanya and the Production Assistant were looking at him with love in their eyes.

"Anyways," Edward continued with a quick wink, "she knows when she gets me I'm a sure thing."

Now both women's hearts lurched as Edward flashed them a cheeky smile. It was the same smile that had beamed at them from posters, magazines and billboards, and now it was directed at _them_. Even if he was married, they felt lucky.

Edward turned and headed towards the set, rolling his head from side to side and shrugging his shoulders to limber up a little.

"Can you believe that guy?" The Production Assistant muttered. "I told him to go and he just …"

"Does what he's told," Tanya finished.

The women gave Edward's departing rear all the appreciation it deserved.

"All that, _and_ he's a nice guy. You know, there really are times when I love my job," Tanya said.

"I hear that," the Assistant nodded.

Tanya was catching up with some friends tonight, some of which were Assistants working for various celebrities and even - on one memorable occasion that they were still all drinking to forget - Lindsay Lohan. She couldn't wait to tell them about her day on set. Obedience and cupcakes; she was going to be able to brag about this for days.


	3. Papa Bear

_Disclaimer:__Stephanie__Meyer__owns__Twilight_.

**Hee. A few of you have requested more Emmett, so I thought I'd explore how the big guy is faring … **

**Keep the prompts coming guys, they're wonderful!**

"There you are."

Bella looked up in time to see Rosalie swoop down on her and press a quick kiss against her cheek before settling into the opposite seat. It was a Saturday morning and the two women had made arrangements to catch up for some breakfast and shopping. Rosalie dropped her purse onto one of the spare seats without ceremony and snatched up a menu, glancing around to snare a passing waiter to order a coffee.

"You look like you're on a mission," Bella commented before nodding at the waiter's query and adding another coffee to the order.

"I just had to get out of there this morning," Rosalie explained as she leaned back in her seat and pushed her hair off her face with one hand. She kept scanning the menu as she spoke. "When I woke up this morning, getting out of the house for some girl time was all I could think of."

Bella frowned a little at this. "Is everything okay?"

"Huh?" That got Rosalie's attention. "Yeah sure. It's just …," she waved an inelegant hand before slumping a little and offering Bella a weary smile. "I just _needed_ to feel like myself again for a little while."

Bella nodded at this, although she still didn't full understand.

"Don't get me wrong, the twins are gorgeous, they've changed my life-," Rosalie broke off and covered her mouth as she yawned.

"I know there's a 'but' coming," Bella said.

"_But_," Rosalie said with a nod, "I feel like I've turned into some sort of Mommy machine. Feeding, changing, barely sleeping ... I feel like a wreck."

"Well you certainly don't look it," Bella commented. Granted the woman looked tired, but she was still drawing appreciative looks from some of the men in the room. Her figure hadn't fully recovered from the pregnancy, but combined with her natural vitality, Rosalie seemed to exude the kind of lushness that would have made Rembrandt bite his paintbrush with longing.

"Is Emmett helping?"

"Oh sure, he's as besotted with them as I am, but he gets to walk away and _do_stuff."

"But not today," Bella said, leaning back slightly as the waiter re-appeared and carefully placed their coffees on the table.

"Ready to order?" The waiter inquired with an easy smile.

"You bet," Rosalie replied and then indicated Bella's menu with a jerk of her chin. "Carb up, Cullen. We're combat shopping today so you're going to need some energy."

"Sounds like you've really planned this out," Bella said as she turned her attention back to the menu selection.

"I'm making every minute count," Rosalie said. "I want to feel like an adult, so that means shopping, girl-talk and _shoes_."

"Gotcha," Bella nodded and then looked up at Rosalie again. "So who's minding the twins, Esme?"

"Uh-uh." This time Rosalie's smile turned gleeful, "They're having some Daddy time."

"Really?" Bella blinked. Whilst Emmett was certainly a doting father, even Edward could admit that his brother was still an overgrown toddler.

"Really," Rosalie's grin now had a touch of evil to it. "He makes all the right noises, but I don't think he really _gets_ it yet. I figured it was about time he had a taste of responsibility."

"Mmph," Bella snorted before sipping at her coffee. "I wonder how long it will be before he calls for reinforcements?"

o * o * o * o * o

It wasn't until he reached the back door of the house that Edward realised he hadn't thought things through very well. Fortunately the door was yanked open by a frazzled looking Emmett.

"Dickward," Emmett grunted by way of greeting before reaching for one of the large mugs of coffee Edward was holding.

"Bonehead," Edward returned in a calm tone. "So where's the fire?"

"In here," Emmett stepped aside to let Edward in. "Keep going," he said when Edward moved inside and gave him a puzzled look.

"Where am I going?" He asked over his shoulder as they walked down the hallway.

"Living room," Emmett said between sips, "_quietly_."

"Okay, okay," Edward replied, amused at his brother's mood.

When they reached the living room, Edward stopped and gave his brother an incredulous smile.

"_This_was the emergency?"

The twins were on a padded mat on the living room floor, surrounded by a plethora of toys, but both curled into each other, sound asleep.

"Shhhh!" Emmett hissed before grabbing Edward by the elbow and steering him towards the kitchen.

Edward pulled up a stool at the breakfast bar and took another sip of his coffee. Emmett on the other hand, paced back and forth in the doorway, peering into the living room as if regarding two unexploded bombs.

"So this was the big emergency?" Edward asked when Emmett turned for another restless circuit.

"I don't know how she does it," Emmett muttered. He stopped and rubbed at his morning stubble before taking an absent-minded sip of his coffee. "Oh, and thanks-," he waved the cup in Edward's direction.

"Well I sure as shit wasn't going to drink your instant coffee," Edward replied.

"Such a snob since you got that machine. You've changed, man," Emmett replied.

"Yeah right," Edward scoffed, "you're downing just as much of it as I am."

"Well that's because-," Emmett's head snapped sideways at the sound of a mild gurgle from the other room.

Edward watched, mesmerised as his brother tiptoed over to peer at the sleeping infants before returning to the kitchen with a quiet sigh.

"Are they even supposed to be sleeping now?" Edward asked. He didn't know anything about parenting, but after listening to some of Rosalie's conversations he knew there was some sort of schedule in place.

"Probably, but all I know is that right now it's all quiet on the Western front," Emmett said in what he obviously thought was a stage whisper, "I think we-,"

Another gurgle sounded, and then a distinct grizzle.

"Aw _hell,_" Emmett grimaced.

Edward glanced at his watch; it was nearly 10am.

o * o * o * o * o

"I can't decide," Bella said at last as she stood regarding her feet. "What do you think, patent nude, or black?"

Rosalie stepped back and gave the shoes the serious consideration they deserved.

"Why not get both?"

"I don't know," Bella fretted.

"It's not like you can't afford them," Rosalie soothed.

"That's not the point," Bella replied. It had taken a while but she and Edward were still sorting out the financial side of the relationship. Civilised and generous as it was, Bella still couldn't get used to the idea of buying things just for the sake of it.

"I know," Rosalie nodded.

Even with their very healthy custom-built car business, there was always going to be a massive divide between the brothers' incomes. Bella had tentatively raised the subject after Emmett had been teasing his brother about the coffee machine.

"_You two are in different worlds," Bella had begun._

"_With a paycheck to match," Emmett had agreed, and then at Bella's surprised look, "I could see where you were headed. It's cool."_

"_Yeah?" Bella cocked her head at this. _

"_We both do what we love, and we get very well rewarded at the end of the day. It's just a different scale," he shrugged. "I think I've got the better end of the bargain."_

_Thinking back to the last time Edward had returned home exhausted from a press tour, she was inclined to agree._

"_We're both set for life, and anything above and beyond that is a bonus," Emmett went on. "Doesn't mean I can't give the guy shit about it though."_

"_Really? I hadn't noticed," Bella replied in a dry tone as she went about getting some cups. Edward, Rosalie and the twins were outside on the deck after a lazy Sunday lunch, and Emmett had volunteered to help with the coffee. By 'help', he meant getting an advance jump on any cupcakes that might be in the vicinity._

"_Hey Bonehead," Edward appeared in the doorway. "Rosie wants to know if we're getting those coffees anytime this year."_

"_Oh__can__it,__" __Emmett__turned__and__made__a__ '__hurry__up__' __gesture__at__Bella__that__went__entirely__unnoticed._

_Edward shouldered him aside as he walked over to wrap his arms around Bella's waist and kiss her neck._

"_Hey you," he mumbled and pressed a kiss against her neck._

"_Hey yourself," Bella replied as she pressed back against him. She loved afternoons like this. The day and ambled along with no fixed agenda, ably assisted by good food and wine, and good company. _

"_I think you've got what I need?" Edward kissed her neck again, adding a very gentle bite which he soothed with a swipe of his tongue._

"_Oh yeah? And what would that be?" Bella swallowed hard and tried to focus on the coffee machine that was working through the brewing cycle._

"_Cake?"_

"_Oh," Bella turned with an exasperated laugh and swatted a now laughing Edward on his shoulder, "you two are as bad as each other!"_

"_My brother the bad-ass," nodded Emmett, "who goes to work every day in full makeup."_

"_Says my brother the grease monkey," Edward retorted before wrapping his arms around his wife and giving her an elaborate smooch._

"_Whatever," Emmett rolled his eyes, "where's the cake?"_

"_You've got a choice; carrot cake or cupcakes, they're over there," Bella nodded towards a set of stacked containers._

"_Why not take both?" Emmett raised an eyebrow at Edward who nodded._

Now Bella stood up and walked towards the mirror, turning to study each shoe.

"So what's it gonna be?" Rosalie asked.

"Both," Bella nodded. "Seems to me your husband once said you can't have too much of a good thing."

"Good call," Rosalie beamed.

o * o * o * o * o

"No, no, no … oh baby what the hell do you call _that_?"

Edward cocked his head at the conversation he could hear through the baby monitor. The two men had danced attendance on the toddlers all afternoon until a certain smell had alerted them to a pressing need. Nostrils pinched, Edward had ignored his brother's wild-eyed look and left him to it.

"You gotta help," Emmett had pleaded as they had each carried a restive toddler into the nursery for changing.

"I don't gotta," Edward snorted, "and more importantly, I don't wanna."

"Dude, _c__'__mon_," Emmett had flat out whined at this point.

"One of the benefits of not being a parent, is the ability to walk away," Edward laughed as he had settled a twin on her back on the change table. "Besides, Rosalie does this without Bella's help every day."

"But that's different, she's good at this stuff," Emmett groused.

"From practice," Edward said as he backed out of the room. What he didn't say was that Rosalie had forbidden him to help. "You do your thing and I'll get us some lunch."

Now Edward paused in the act of slicing some sandwiches and snorted at his brother's dismay being broadcast through the baby monitor.

"Not. Possible. C'mon … I know exactly how much you two have eaten today, how the fu- _fudge_ did you turn it into this much poop?"

Edward grimaced and shook his head, wondering if Emmett was going to have an appetite when he reappeared.

o * o * o * o * o

"Coffee?" Rosalie asked as they emerged from another boutique. Both ladies were carrying a few shopping bags now, although the bulk of them belonged to Rosalie who took combat shopping seriously.

"Sure, let's dump these though," Bella suggested as they strolled back to where they left the car.

They were unlocking the car when the sounds of a scuffle made them look across the street. There was a crowd of curious onlookers gathering outside a store. The crowd looked to be mostly tourists, although the distinctive shoulder bags and intrusive lenses clearly identified the paparazzi.

"Wonder who's in there?" Rosalie said as she set down the last bag.

"You can go look if you like," Bella said in an off-hand tone as she slammed the rear hatch shut on their purchases.

"Nah," Rosalie wrinkled her nose in distaste. "It's probably Brangelina." She cast the crowd a last look over her shoulder before hitching her purse on her shoulder and following Bella towards the café they had parked near. "Poor bastards. I don't know how they do it."

"I don't know how Edward does it," Bella replied as they walked into the café.

"It's just a job," Rosalie said as they moved through the café towards a vacant table. The place was on-trend, the crowd was stylish, but neither Bella nor Rosalie cared a damn. All they knew was that the place did good coffee. "But your boy still gets more than his share of attention. Does it happen when you guys are out together?"

"Sometimes," Bella admitted. "It depends on what's going on with his work as to how much he's on the radar. I guess what helps is that I'm not in the industry, so we're not a front-row couple like those guys," she nodded to indicate the crowd outside.

"You are," Rosalie objected.

"Yeah but I'm just in the industry, not in front of the camera," Bella pointed out. "Edward only gets the attention when it's for work, or if he's feeling paranoid."

"Huh?" Rosalie looked blank.

"Like people that can't stand cats. If he goes out and wants to avoid the cameras at all cost, they bug him all day. If he doesn't think about it, they don't bother him so much."

"I guess he doesn't actively court them like some others do," Rosalie mused. It was a well known fact that many celebrities who bitched about the media intrusion actively engaged with the paparazzi to provide 'candid' shots and then split the profits.

"He's tried getting aggressive with them in the past, but now he's trying a more civilised approach and it seems to be working," Bella replied. "Do you think this place does cake?"

"Hold on," Rosalie paused and scanned the crowd. "There don't seem to be too may society x-rays in here, so we could be in with a chance. You want something?"

"I want something sweet," Bella said as she scanned the discreetly worded menu.

"As in crave?" Rosalie leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin.

"I mean as in I have a sweet tooth," Bella shook her head. "You're as bad as Emmett."

"It's only a matter of time," Rosalie gave a complacent smile and then, "macaroons, three o'clock."

"Score," Bella nodded.

o * o * o * o * o

"Six diapers in three hours," Edward commented when Emmett returned to the living room looking pale, "that's gotta be some kind of record."

Emmett sank down onto the sofa beside his brother and wordlessly accepted the proffered beer. Edward had a few things to attend to, but his brother wouldn't let him leave and so he was making himself comfortable.

Emmett took a long chug of beer before setting the bottle down with an explosive sigh.

"Fuck," he said in a heartfelt tone, "I don't know how she does it."

"Your woman has skills."

"Mad skills," Emmett nodded.

"But you're doin' alright," Edward said as he reached out and patted his brother's shoulder, feeling expansive. Someone was in a world of pain, and it wasn't him. "How was it in there?"

The twins had produced some interesting smells for the afternoon, but at long last they seemed to be settling down for a nap.

Emmett's mouth worked soundlessly as he tried to find the words, but at last he began to speak.

"They're pushing it out like they're some kinda pump," he said, offering his brother a helpless look.

"That's how it works," Edward replied.

"I know," Emmett looked irritated. "It's just that there's so much of it, and it keeps comin'. I just don't understand how something that small can produce so much; logistically there's no way those little bodies could contain that much."

"It's a mystery," Edward agreed. "There's some snacks in the kitchen if you want-," he broke off when Emmett slowly shook his head.

"I don't think I could eat anything right now."

"And they said the Age of Wonders had passed," Edward said.

o * o * o * o * o

"How do you think the boys are going?" Bella asked as they paused at another window.

"They'll be fine," Rosalie replied, "check out that bag."

"Nice," Bella agreed. "Wonder how the girls are going with Daddy time?"

Rosalie looked away from the artfully displayed goods and gave Bella a sappy smile. "My girls," she murmured. "They'll be fine, and they have their daddy wrapped around their little fingers."

o * o * o * o * o

Edward glanced over at the baby monitor as it crackled to life again.

"I swear to god, you can have anything you want. Daddy will pay you cash, buy you a pony or … whatever it is you want, Daddy will get it for you if you two would. Just. Stop. Pooping."

o * o * o * o * o

"You know, those macaroons we had were gorgeous. Maybe I should go get a take-home pack," Rosalie mused. "You want?"

"I couldn't fit another thing in," Bella shook her head. "But maybe Emmett would like them as a reward for being so brave."

o * o * o * o * o

"I don't think I can take much more," Emmett croaked as he sat down on the couch again.

"The girls will be home soon," Edward offered. He hoped so in any case. His brother was nearly a broken man.

o * o * o * o * o

It was late afternoon by the time Rosalie and Bella returned home. The front door had barely closed behind Bella before Emmett had his wife wrapped up in his arms, one hand gently cupping the back of his head as he kissed her passionately without embarrassment in front of a bemused Edward and Bella. When he eventually let his wife up for air, Rosalie offered him an evil smile.

"Rough day?" She asked.

Emmett moaned and rested his forehead on her shoulder as he hugged her close.

"You are a goddess," he said in a fervent tone. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

"I'm sure I'll think of something," Rosalie smiled.

Having participated in the day on an entirely different level, Edward and Bella were perhaps less enthused but no less loving by comparison.

"Hey," Edward greeted as he gave Bella a brief kiss. "Good day?"

"Great, but I'm tired," Bella admitted. "If it weren't for a few coffee stops I don't know that I could have kept up."

"Amateur," Rosalie laughed as she tried to extricate herself from Emmett's grasp. Emmett was having none of it, and followed her as she escorted Edward and Bella towards the door. "A few more trips and you'll get used to it."

"You're going to do this again?" Emmett couldn't conceal his horror.

"Yup," Rosalie said with relish.

Edward laughed at the look on Emmett's face, who took it with good grace until he narrowed his eyes.

"Wait until it's your turn," he promised, "and then we'll see who's laughing."

Edward turned to see Bella regarding them with a grin.

"C'mon, Cullen, let's go home."

Edward picked up Bella's modest collection of shopping bags as they left the rear of the house and crossed the backyard towards the gate.

"I still can't believe they ended up living right behind us," Bella commented as Edward held the gate open for her with a flourish.

"You couldn't make this stuff up," Edward agreed.

The gate swung closed behind them and they both sighed with pleasure to be back in their own personal paradise.

"How did it all go?" Bella asked once they were inside the house.

"There was a game on," Edward shrugged as he set the bags down beside the bed and then flopped onto it with a happy grunt.

Bella gave him an incredulous look.

"And? Did anything else happen?"

"According to Emmett, the girls pooped enough to create a new island off Japan," he shrugged, and watched Bella's face light up with amusement. He stretched out his arms in invitation. "C'mere."

Bella obliged, kicking off her shoes and crawling across the coverlet towards him. They settled against each other with practised ease. Edward shifted slightly and began to stroke his wife's hair as he stared up at the ceiling feeling thoughtful.

"Do you think that'll be us one day?" Edward asked, pausing his hand as he waited for her answer.

"Sure," Bella replied. "I don't see why not."

Edward nodded at this. Kids had never really been on his radar, but seeing how happy Emmett and Rosalie were had him thinking about the next possible phase in his life in a whole new way. Emmett thought so to.

"You gotta do this man," Emmett had said as he padded out of the nursery for the last time.

"What, have my own biohazard?"

"It'll change your life," Emmett urged.

"You think?"

"I know," Emmett nodded. "I gots the happy."

That was enough to convince Edward. His brother lapsed into Popeye-speak when he felt deeply about something but wanted to make light of it.

He was brought out of his reverie when Bella gave him a slight nudge.

"I got one request though," Bella was saying, "if we're going to try the kid business."

"What's that?"

Bella propped herself up on one elbow and gave Edward a serious look.

"Practice. Lots and lots of practice."

"That's a good point," Edward said as he pulled her closer. "Guess if we were going to make a new person we'd want to make sure we were going about it the right way."

"You know what they say," Bella said as she dipped forward for a kiss, "practice makes perfect."

"Work work work," Edward muttered as he pulled her close.

.

.

.

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**As always, thanks for reading!**


	4. The Crowded Mind of Edward Cullen

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight.

A/N: This prompt arrived via **Axadams**. It's not entirely what was suggested, but it's what my imagination provided so I just had to go with it. I might return to the interviewer/interviewee idea later on down the track, but in the meantime I hope this will entertain.

Vanity Fair, November 2011

**THE CROWDED MIND OF EDWARD CULLEN**

Things are looking bright for Edward Cullen when I arrive at his home in Hidden Hills about an hour away from the Beverly Hills Hotel. Literally. He cups a hand to his brow as he squints against the sunshine, indicating with a languorous wave where I can park my car. He's dressed in movie-star casual; white t-shirt, jeans and a scuffed pair of no-brand shoes, but the Patak Philippe watch is real.

His home is modest by Hollywood standards, the artworks are a mix of known and undiscovered artists, and the abundance of skylights and windows flood the rooms with natural light. I suggest we settle in the quiet, air-conditioned, book-lined study that I had glimpsed earlier, but instead find myself at a table outside by the pool. For the next three hours we will talk. And talk. About life, work, success, marriage, romance and movies.

Cullen, now 36, makes an art of effortlessness. Ever since his honey-voiced vampire enticed women the world over into the world of Bitten, he has known how to stand still and let the camera drool. As a movie commodity he's as lovingly photographed as any sunrise. As an actor he's without artifice. Edward Cullen is a Hollywood anomaly; a star who doesn't do drama off-screen.

In the celluloid industry where image is king, Cullen was born for the job. A lift of the eyebrow and a cockeyed grin, and boom, men want to be him and women's ovaries are exploding the world over. A soulful look to the skies and you just know how his heart aches. When it comes to interviews, all that emoting happens on the Director's dime, and for a long time outside of that it was made quite clear there would be no eking details out of Edward Cullen.

I interviewed Edward years ago on one of his early press tours. Even then I found out that he was not someone who rushed to fill the silences in a conversation. Known throughout the industry as a nice guy, when it came to the printed word he liked to choose his words carefully. We've had other conversations since then, sitting in folding canvas chairs outside his trailer on set, back on various studio sets before chat-shows, on the promotional circuits.

At the London premiere of Bitten, I had my first glimpse of the man he was becoming. Edward doesn't usually watch his own movies, so that night he broke ranks to say hello fans who had faithfully waited for him despite the steady drizzle of rain before retiring to the celebration hosted by the Director. Hours later, I found him sitting alone in a small alcove with a glass of wine. He was in a tuxedo, leaning against the window watching the crowds in the street below beginning to disperse. The lights were low, and he was shedding his character, setting it free on the screen so that he could slip back into the interior world of Edward Cullen.

Since then he has been dozens of different characters, and finally I have the opportunity to ask him something that I have always wanted to know. To where do all those personalities disappear?

"They're all still in here," Edward replies, tapping a fingertip against his temple. "I always picture it as this chest of drawers: Tyler Hawkins is in one, Eric Packer is in another, Georges Duroy is in another. They stick with you, and the weirdest thing is that I can still access them. They're still very close to the surface.

It must be crowded.

"I guess they've come to terms with each other."

Now those voices will have to come to terms with another character: Edward Cullen, Producer.

The day before our interview I received an email from his office. I opened it with a vague sense of foreboding as our schedules were subject to change at short notice. What followed was a modest press release announcing the creation of his new production Company, 'Stray Dog Productions'. Nothing new there. Hollywood actors and starlets have always created their own companies to pursue projects of personal interest. What set Cullen apart from the others was the announcement of his exclusive intention to pursue and fund indie films. Was that a smart move from a guy who made his career in blockbuster mainstream?

"It makes sense, he's a cinephile," says Reese Witherspoon, who plays Marlene, a circus performer and Cullen's love interest in his latest movie. "He's like a film student, he watches everything and anything."

"Hollywood can get a little too comfortable," Cullen concedes when I press him further. "It's beautifully stylised, but it can lull into a false sense of security. There needs to be a balance between mainstream and indie, otherwise things can get boring."

Which makes indie movies more exotic by comparison?

"Certainly more textured. When they're on a tight budget every minute, every word has to count, and not getting it right makes for a very immediate success or failure. This is my way of giving the underdog a fighting chance."

So is it the stray dogs, or underdogs that have a new champion?

"Both. Either way you get rewarded with a very particular kind of fierce loyalty … and maybe fleas."

Another Hollywood anomaly: the coincidence that was too good to be true. Exploring loyalties has seen Cullen working on mainstream and indie productions that have been rewarding in more ways than one. He was already dating his now-wife Isabella when they discovered one of her scripts was being considered by his team.

"Her name wasn't even on it," Cullen laughs when pressed for details. "We still get teased about the look on our faces when we each arrived for the meeting."

Straydog's latest production – Dirty Deeds – screened at Sundance to critical acclaim last month and buzz is mounting about international distribution. Naysayers are still saying that Cullen is spreading himself too thin – James Franco, anyone? – but he remains undeterred.

"You can always find a way to make something feel right," Cullen says with just the right amount of certitude. "I'm trying to slow down, get behind the camera a bit more for a change, and it feels good. Bella taught me that."

How so?

"We were talking about how many movies I'd made so far, and how much longer I wanted to keep working."

Cullen's voice trailed off and he sits silent for a long time, staring back into the house. It isn't until I shift in my seat to follow his gaze that I can see what's captured his attention. It's a simple thing really. Bella has reappeared from the study and is standing in front of the open refrigerator, drumming her fingers against the door as she perhaps wonders what to make for lunch. It's a scene played out in countless homes, and as she moves toward the counter he tracks her movement like a compass dart. She looks up to see him watching her, and blows him a raspberry. He grins and the moment is broken.

"She got me thinking about trying something different, changing where I stood on the film set in relation to what was going on. I guess it's a benefit of being married to a writer because when they want to make a point they can really nail it. She said that I only have so many faces in my pocket."

The face I'm seeing now is relaxed and expansive, a long way from his polite but guarded persona that I first met all those years ago. It helps that Isabella and I have met a few times through work, and that the photographer who will be scheduling the accompanying photo shoot for this article in the coming days is a personal friend of the couple. Even so, there are still social boundaries that he's careful to maintain. In the age of Twitter, Cullen can be tracked down within moments once he steps outside. Was that one of the reasons he moved the interview from Beverley Hills Hotel to his home?

He considers my question for a moment before proffering my empty cup with a crinkle-eyed grin. "They don't do free refills."

Did I mention he makes a great coffee?


End file.
